


Unexpected Adventures

by PlayingChello



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Brief Violence, F/M, It's disgusting how fluffy this is, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 12:01:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6050914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlayingChello/pseuds/PlayingChello
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sparda likes the humans and enjoys observing them from afar, but one particular one catches his fascination a bit more completely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected Adventures

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to Harley because they had an icky morning and I hope this makes them feel better.

Eva has always been the small one. She’s always been the shortest one in her circle of friends. Petite, slight. She’s never been particularly brave or courageous. She’s never been one for exceptional adventures. She mostly just enjoys gardening and sewing. Embroidery and cross stitch. Simple, safe, and well within her comfort zone.

And that’s worked for her. Well into her late teens and early twenties. She leads a simple life, but one she quite enjoys. She has a few friends, but most of the people she grew up with have gone on grand adventures of one kind or another.

Every now and then a sudden bout of wanderlust will strike and she’ll imagine what it would be like to visit far off places and go on grand adventures of her own. She pictures vast oceans and quaint little country towns deep in the woods. Impossibly tall mountains and endless stretches of sand. Even more rarely, she might even begin to pack, thinking herself ready to see the world. But then a plant catches her eye, a friend calls, dinner nearly burns. Something always stops her before she gets very far.

She never imagined adventure would find her.

\--

Sparda is a fearsome creature.

He and Mundus, ruling the demon realm with unprejudiced cruelty. The two most powerful demons of the demon realm, together on the throne. Yet, something didn’t sit quite right with Sparda. Something felt wrong.

And when the war with the humans began, he realised what it was. Their rule was unjust, cruel, and tyrannical. The humans had done nothing to the demons, and yet they terrorised them. So Sparda turned against his brethren and fought for the underdog race. Without his help, he’s sure that the human race would have perished.

But he took on the Dark Emperor Mundus, who he had ruled with for so long. He was the only one that was capable to destroying him. It was no easy battle, but Sparda managed to seal away the Prince of Darkness and the demon realm with the help of a human priestess. And from then on, he kept the peace, ruling over the human realm in peace for a time before making himself scarce. He spent some time in the demon realm, some time helping the human demon hunters, and some time just keeping to himself.

It’s not until two thousand years after his rebellion that he finds a purpose again.

\--

Sparda doesn’t really like the city. He sticks out. He’s an imposing man, even in his human form. Tall, large, white hair uncommon among humans, and of course his wardrobe has seen few updates over the centuries. People tend to stare, and that doesn’t help anything when he’s trying to blend in.

But he still goes from time to time. He likes to be among the humans. He enjoys watching their strange customs and seeing the strange contraptions they come up with. Their televisions are fascinating, and every now and then they would show these amazing things that can do all sorts of interesting tasks.

He could watch those for hours.

However, this particular day in the human world, he finds himself wandering more residential parts of the city. From towering buildings of tiny postage stamp abodes to larger houses packed together with hardly any yard to speak of. It’s a nice day, so some people are outside.

That’s when he sees her.

Sparda has always been fascinated with humans since his time spent ruling them in peace millennia ago. They’re interesting, adaptable creatures with surprising resiliency for their comparative physical weakness. But his interest has never gone deeper than a surface fascination and observation from afar.

But something about _this_ human. She’s… beautiful. It’s the first thing that he notices. She’s absolutely enchantingly beautiful. With slight features, long blond hair, pretty blue eyes. And he can hear her humming something and it sounds like the voice of angels. He can’t stop himself from approaching her, completely forgetting his odd and generally imposing appearance.

His sudden appearance near her must startle because she makes a noise and knocks herself off balance. It’s complete reflex for him to reach out and catch her before she can fall. She ends up in a deep dip in his arms, as if they were dancing.

“Careful, little dove,” Sparda tells her, still holding her in her dipped position. His voice is something akin to the human’s British accent, but is really more of a meld of his demon Inferno and his learning of the human languages over the millennia.

The woman looks up at him with wide eyes and a mouth open to speak, yet no sound comes out. Sparda finds himself lost in her features for a moment. In her straight, slender nose, her high cheekbones, lips wide and beautiful. And those eyes. Sparkling like the vast oceans of the human world in the midmorning sun.

Finally, Sparda seems to remember himself, righting the woman to her own feet once more. “I apologise for startling you,” he says with a slight bow.

For the first time, the woman actually speaks to him, “Oh, no! I’m sorry. I should have been paying more attention.” Even her spoken word is enchanting. Sparda feels he could listen to her speak forever. She looks at him oddly, “You’re not… from around here, are you?” Her head tilts slightly with the question as her eyes look him up and down in appraisal.

Sparda finds himself smiling, “How could you tell?”

The woman smirks, “Your accent for one. And you aren’t exactly dressed for the climate.”

He glances down at himself and his clothing, from another time and another realm. “Ah, yes,” he muses. Then he looks back at her, “Forgive me, but I have not introduced myself. My name is Sparda. May I ask yours?”

“Eva,” she says simply.

“Eva,” he repeats, tasting it on his tongue. “Deriving from the biblical Eve, meaning life. A beautiful name fitting a very beautiful young lady.”

A faint pink blush rises on Eva’s cheeks at his comment, bringing yet more life to her features and ever more beauty. “I’m flattered,” she says quietly, almost meekly.

A moment of silence permeates the air around them, making Sparda feel somewhat awkward. But eventually Eva looks at him again with a little smile, “Would you like to come in? I’m making soup.”

Human food has never particularly melded with Sparda’s palate. However, any chance he can get to spend more time with this enchanting being is time well spent, in his opinion. “I would be honoured.”

She grins, clearly pleased by his response. She leads him into her home, a small one story building crammed in next to other houses but with a little yard filled with carefully cultivated flowers and a little paved path leading to the door. Inside, the house is quite homey. Decorations that are clearly handmade, photographs, a fire burning in the hearth all create a very cozy environment. One that Sparda feels slightly too large for. It’s a house perfectly sized for the small woman, but one a little small and cramped for such a large man.

Eva leads him into the living room area and offers him a seat on a couch that he once more feels too large for. “Would you like some tea?”

He glances over at her as she disappears into what he presumes is the kitchen, “That would be lovely, thank you.”

Sparda can hear her moving about in the kitchen and he takes the time to take in a more detailed look at the inside of her home. He notices many photographs of her with several other people, but none that look like family. There are several framed stitch works hanging around the room. They all look expertly done, and crafted with a love and passion. Now and then there are little trinkets on display from far off places. He wonders if they were gifts or trinkets Eva herself has procured.

Moments later, the woman of his thoughts appears once more, carrying a tray with teacups and a teapot atop it. “I hope Earl Grey is alright. It’s all I seem to have right now.”

The man has hardly ever had tea, and he doesn’t even know what kind of tea Earl Grey is. “That will be fine.” She sets down the tray on the table in front of the couch and offers him one of the teacups. He takes it from her with a quiet thanks and sips at the hot liquid. It is warm and delicious. Before he knows it, his cup is empty and he finds Eva watching him with a soft smile. “That was delicious.”

Her smile widens just a touch as she stands, “Help yourself to more, I need to check on the soup. It should be ready soon.”

It’s only a few more minutes of Sparda sipping tea before Eva returns with two steaming bowls. She hands one to Sparda and sits across from him with her own. She waits patiently for him to try some before she starts in on her own.

He takes the spoon and scoops up a bit of the liquid and a chunk of meat with a vegetable or two and sticks it into his mouth. And he knows that he doesn’t care for human food but this. This is different. It’s an explosion of flavours and subtle spices. He can’t stop himself from taking another bite. And another. And several more before he remembers he is in the company of a lovely lady that made this soup for him. “This is delicious. Best I have ever had, thank you.”

Eva giggles behind her hand as she takes dainty bites of her own, “Thank you, I’m glad you like it.”

A little while into their eating, Eva speaks up, “Where are you from, Sparda? If not from around here.”

He’s about to answer something vague, a far off land or something of the sort, when movement out the window catches his eye. And not just any movement. Movement only possible from the creatures of Hell. Sparda stands without ceremony, “Stay inside, Eva.” He quickly moves through the house, exiting back through the front door and finds himself faced with a _horde_ of Hellspawn. Demons of every order, not just low level creatures. The variety and sheer quantity means this is no fight for his human form. He quickly reveals Yamato, his most easily hidden sword for his travels in the human realm, and withdraws Luce alongside her.

The last thing Sparda wants is to reveal his true form. There are too many humans around. And he can feel Eva watching him from the window. He doesn’t want to scare her. He likes her. He doesn’t want any shot at befriending her to be ruined because of an untimely demon infestation forcing his hand.

That might very well be the intention of this little battle.

Sparda has summoned swords and bullets flying before a human could blink. Any of the lower level demons are taken out with little difficulty in that flurry of projectiles. But more replace them, and these ones are not so easily taken down. He begins the dance with Yamato, slicing through demons as he comes to them. Many fall to his sword strikes, but several get in counter hits as well. He can feel his human form faltering, made weak by the battle and the damage he’s taking.

Before long, even though few enemies remain, he’s left with little choice. He has to reveal himself. So he lets it happen. He feels himself grow to his larger form, can feel the armour and scales reveal themselves. His wings feel heavy on his back and Yamato particularly light in his hand. He wishes he had Rebellion, heavier and more apt to this form, to cut through the demons facing him. Slashes come faster and easier now, power coursing through his body. It doesn’t take long for the remaining demons to fall to his sword and guns.

When nothing remains but smoke from the evaporating bodies of Hellspawn, Sparda breathes hard, leaning slightly against Yamato to keep himself upright.

_Eva_.

He’s so concerned for her safety, for her, that he runs into her home again completely forgetting his true form is still revealed. His head bumps against the ceiling as he rushes to her only to find her cowering from the window, terrified. She looks so fragile, so small. He approaches slowly, reaching a hand out to her. It’s only then that he realises that he is still dark and scaled, a true demon of Hell. But before he can gather the energy to return the mask of his human form, Eva jumps up and _clings_ to him. “Oh, Sparda! You’re alright! I was so afraid!”

For a moment, Sparda stands frozen. This tiny human woman is clinging to him out of fear for his safety and the demon horde he just cleared, and yet she is entirely unfazed by his own Hellish appearance. Finally, when Eva seems not to want to move from where she is, he wraps his arms around her and gently extends his wings to surround them. He feels her sigh against him and nearly sag into his hold.

He chuckles, a dark sound in this form. “I suppose that the question of my origin has been answered for you, then.”

Eva makes a sound that might be something like a nervous chuckle and reaches up to touch his horns, “So you- you’re a demon?”

The look he gives her most certainly does not translate to his demonic features. In this form, he nearly always looks angry and disappointed. But still he tries to translate a deadpan look to her. Here he is, sitting on her living room floor, eight feet tall and covered in scaled armour, glowing red eyes and massive curved horns, and she asks if he’s a demon. “I would have thought that much to be obvious.”

“But you’re good. You fought the other ones.” She says it as if she meant it to be a question, but her tone sounds absolute and sure, as if there is no room for him to argue.

So he doesn’t. “Yes.”

Eva melts into him once more, breathing a sigh of relief. All of the stress left in her body from the event seems to have left her. After a time, Sparda tilts her chin up so he can look at her, “Eva, little dove, are you alright?”

Her sparkling blue eyes brim with unshed tears. She nods, maintaining earnest eye contact with him despite his current form. Once more he finds himself lost in her. So honest and pure, hair nearly the same colour as the gold accents in his scales.

Love is a concept he’s only heard tell of. Demons will mate, bond with another for life through blood. But it isn’t out of love, it’s out of need. Humans, they love. Love is a human emotion Sparda never even considered before now. But now, looking into Eva’s eyes as he holds her against him, he thinks maybe, just maybe, he might be able to feel that, too.

Slowly, as they stare at one another, Sparda regains his human mask. His form shrinks, his horns and wings recede, scales smooth to the fabric of his clothing. And eventually, he is entirely human looking, with a soft, very fond smile, down at Eva, still in his arms and still staring right back up at him. Suddenly he finds himself with an urge he never thought he’d ever have and one he can’t seem to quell. “Eva, I would really like to kiss you right now.”

Eva’s cheeks turn a lovely shade of pink and her eyes dart away for just a moment. But then they return, looking up at him with something new flashing there. It might just be longing. “I’d like that.”

He doesn’t think too hard, doesn’t let the shock of her acceptance sink in. Instead, he takes both of his hands and gently holds the sides of her face in them. His thumbs brush against her cheekbones and then her lips, exploring the contours of her face. And then, finally, he pulls her closer as he dips his head down to meet her.

Their lips meet softly. It’s a barely there pressure of lips against lips. A very small sound resonates somewhere deep in Eva’s chest, little more than a chirp. She presses in closer, and he pulls her face harder against him. Time loses its meaning as they sit there on the floor captured by each other’s kiss.

When they finally part, Eva’s entire face is flushed. She looks even more kissable that she did moments ago, and Sparda is positive that he could die like this, enraptured by the beauty of this human woman. Left to do nothing but kiss her until his body wastes away and he is left a skeletonised shell of a man. And he would be all the happier for it.

Yet he finds himself very concerned for her wellbeing. Much more so over any wants or needs of his own. “Eva, darling, we must get you off of this floor. It is no place for a lady.” He pushes himself to stand before helping her up as well. “I am sure you have things to be doing. I shall leave you to them.” He can’t leave without giving her another soft kiss to her lips, and then another to her brow.

But he finds her holding fast to him as he tries to turn away, “Where are you staying?”

He blinks, “I had not much thought of that, to be perfectly honest.”

“Stay here. Take my bed, I wouldn’t have it for you to stay somewhere cold and unwelcoming. At least here you’ll have a hot breakfast in the morning.”

She’s so earnest and pleading, he can’t find it in himself to refuse her. He simply nods his assent and she bubbles with happiness as a brilliant smile stretches across her features. “Now, let’s finish that soup, hmm?”

\--

He ends up staying with Eva for much more than a single night. Though she insists he take her bed, he can’t bear the thought of her sleeping anywhere else, so makes a point to fall asleep on the couch. Though sleep for him is… less than necessary. He usually ends up getting up shortly after she goes to bed and wandering her home, occasionally peeking into her room to watch her as she sleeps.

They kiss a lot, but not much more. And they talk. He finds out that the trinkets that litter her home are gifts from friends that have traveled far and wide and that she herself has never left the city. He learns of her passions and the activities that give her joy. He particularly enjoys watching her while she gardens, especially when she hums while doing so.

Little is spoken of his life and past. She tells him enough for her to understand. That he is a traitor, that the demon realm hates him. That he sealed away the Prince of Darkness long ago. But he keeps the details to a minimum. The creatures of Hell terrify Eva and he prefers her to remain happy and blissful, rather than afraid.

And one night, Eva pulls Sparda into the bedroom with her so he can sit with her while she cross stitches before bed. He lays on her bed, propped up by pillows, while she lays against his chest passing a needle back and forth. He watches in fascination as the pattern comes to life on the cloth while they talk about anything and nothing.

As it gets later, and her yawns become harder and harder to hide, Sparda runs a hand through her hair, “I believe it may be time for a little dove to get some sleep.”

Eva yawns once more and sets her cross stitch aside. As she does so, Sparda attempts to leave her in peace to sleep and return to his normal post at the couch. But she grabs his wrist before he can get too far. “Stay with me?” She looks at him with those pleading eyes he just can’t seem to deny, “Please?”

He is powerless before her. Not that he has any real desire to get away from her. So he stands and pulls back the blankets before laying back down and pulling her against him. He kisses the top of her head before reaching passed her to turn off the light. His hand returns to her hair, gently running through the soft strands to lull her to sleep. When her breathing has evened and he is fairly sure that she is asleep, he kisses her forehead and whispers words of love against her skin. “I am very fond of you, Eva, darling.”

He swears he hears her sigh and feels her snuggle closer to him, but it could just be his imagination. And for the first time in a long time, he actually lets sleep take him.

\--

Before long, Sparda finds himself wondering how he’s made it through his life until now. He quickly forgets that he could go anywhere else because everything would feel cold and empty without Eva by his side. She brightens his life, gives him a reason for everything. He lives for her smile and the gentle sound of her laughter. She is the most important thing in the world to him, his sun and stars, his moon and sky, his entire world.

And one day he finds this house they’ve been existing in is far too small for the two of them, if he’s going to be a permanent part of her life. “Eva, darling,” he starts one evening as he watches her brush her hair through the mirror, “might it be time to find somewhere else to live? Somewhere a bit larger with room for growth.”

Eva’s eyes meet his through the reflection in the mirror, “What’s wrong with here?”

She sounds slightly offended and it sends a pang through Sparda’s heart, “Nothing, little dove. But I am a bit too large for this place, no?”

Eva’s attention returns to her brushing as she chuckles, “I suppose you are, always hitting your head.” She puts her brush down with a sigh before turning around to face Sparda head on, “But I don’t have the money for a bigger place.”

Immediately, Sparda stands so her can embrace her, “Oh, Eva, my love. What is mine is yours. You shall never want for anything.”

She gasps and looks up at him, “What? I could never- I wouldn’t feel right taking your money.”

Sparda’s hand rubs absently at her back in soothing circles, “What is mine is yours, darling.”

Once more she buries her face into his chest and shakes her head, “I still wouldn’t feel right.”

He sighs, holding her close. He’s not quite sure what he can do to change her mind. He wants nothing more than to spoil her, with trinkets, with his love, with anything her heart desires. But he drops the issue for the time being, instead leading her into bed.

\--

Eva starts picking up more odd jobs after that conversation. Sparda knows it’s because she wants to be able to afford a new house for him, but he doesn’t want to her push herself. She’s fragile, a tiny bird. If he had any real say about it, she would be free to do her cross stitch and gardening all day with no worry for money.

He has bought her small gifts. Things she may scold him for, but ends up adoring. Like the sewing machine sitting pretty in the living room. And the jeweled hand mirror that sits on her bureau on a cloth to keep it clean and safe. And hair pins she puts in her hair for special occasions. Little things that start to collect in the house and it always warms Sparda’s heart to see Eva using them.

One afternoon, Eva is at her ironing board doing some ironing for a neighbour for a bit of extra money while Sparda flips through one of her magazines. It’s just to keep himself busy while she works. She doesn’t like when he bothers her while she’s focusing. The gentle sound of soft classical music is the only sound Eva wants while she works like this. So Sparda quietly looks through pages of a fashion magazine.

About a third of the way through he comes across a portion of the magazine dedicated to massive, frilly, white dresses. Wedding dresses.

Marriage is a human concept. One Sparda has only ever heard tell of, and never really given much thought to. He knows of the idea, a ceremony of joining. It’s somewhat like the human version of demon mateship, a joining of two people. Although, marriage is a pledge and an oath, and not a blood binding. A bit less permanent than the rituals of demons.

Sparda glances up at Eva. Even as she works, with hair tied back and falling loose in places, she is beautiful. He finds himself softening as he watches her, entranced by the way she moves and the slight furrow of her brow. This is a woman he could marry. He has already pledged his life for her in his own mind, the ceremony would only be so he could declare it to the world. Declare his love and devotion for this wonderful young woman.

“Eva, are you nearly finished?”

She’s startled out of her concentration on the task at hand and looks over with slight annoyance. But when she sees Sparda, her face immediately softens, “Mhm, almost.”

“Finish up, then. I think we shall go out tonight.”

She tilts her head in question, but doesn’t say anything. Rather, she returns to her ironing and Sparda lets his mind wander, planning.

\--

“Where are we going?” Eva asks as she sifts through her closet to find appropriate clothing for the evening.

“Hmm, what is the nicest place in the city?”

“Probably Fluorescence along the downtown stretch,” Eva muses. Then she pauses, realising the implications of the question. “We’re not- Sparda that’s far too expensive.”

He smiles, “Put on your nicest dress, little dove. I told you, you shall want for nothing. I want to take you out.”

Eva gives him a look before digging in her closet for a moment and then shooing him from the room so she can change.

Some time later, Eva comes out of her bedroom. The first thing Sparda notices is her soft smile. Her hair is pulled loosely back and held into a messy mass at the back of her head. She has a light dusting of makeup on her face with a lovely shade of red upon her lips. And as she stands there, Sparda’s eyes appraise the rest of her. Her dress is a lovely thing, black and what looks like it might be satin. It’s belted across her waist and intricate vines of silver embroidery frame the top of the bodice, with one side stretching down in a gentle curve along the bodice. Draped over her arms, she wears a simple shrug of more of the same black satin fabric. She wears a pair of silver high heeled shoes that match the embroidery perfectly and give her just a few extra inches, bringing her up to about Sparda’s chin.

“You are breathtaking, my love.”

Eva’s cheeks are dusted with pink when she answers, “Thank you.”

Sparda grins, unable to contain how happy he is at the chance to be at the side of such a lovely and wonderful woman. He holds out his arm to her, bent at the elbow, “Shall we?”

Her smile widens as she takes his arm in hers. He quickly leans down to kiss her forehead before leading her out of the house.

She directs him toward the restaurant and they chat simply as they walk there. Eva laughs often and Sparda tries to hold himself together. He’s uncharacteristically nervous. His free hand reaches into his pocket and fingers at a box, originally going to be a gift for no real reason. But this is a better purpose, he thinks. It’s going to be a big evening.

When they arrive, they are seated at a lovely corner table for two with a beautiful view of an outdoor garden through the nearby window. With the way the place is lit and organised, it’s almost like they are the only ones in the restaurant. Sparda pulls Eva’s chair out for her and holds her hand as she sits before going to sit himself.

“Sparda, dear, are you sure this isn’t a little… much?”

He looks at her fondly from across the table then grabs her hand in both of his, “Not at all, you are deserving of only the best, my dove.”

She blushes once more and looks away before hiding behind the menu.

Dinner is a fairly mundane affair. Sparda finds the food to be nowhere near as good as anything Eva can make, but Eva seems to enjoy her meal immensely. After dessert, when both of them have been filled to the brim with food and Sparda has paid, he takes one of her hands and plays with her fingers. “What do you say we take a walk through the garden?”

She looks out the window to the little courtyard garden, “That sounds nice.”

He grins and stands, offering his hand to her to help her stand and then leads her to the door to the courtyard. They walk in somewhat silence, Eva leaning her head against Sparda’s shoulder as they walk. Eventually they come to a fountain bubbling quietly and a path around it surrounded by different flowers and little lights strewn about twinking lightly. It’s here that Sparda stops and pulls Eva to face him.

Eva looks up at him in question as he frowns out of nervousness. One hand comes up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind Eva’s ear. “You are so beautiful,” he whispers to her, hand lingering at the side of her face.

She leans into the touch, “Sparda…”

His thumb brushes over her lips to quiet her. “Eva, you are the most wonderful thing to have ever happened in my very long life. You have taught me what love is and how wonderful it is. You’ve seen my true self and you’re still here. And I may be unfamiliar with many human customs, but I believe this is one I would like to explore.”

Sparda reaches into a pocket of his coat while Eva stands stunned into silence. “I believe it is traditional that I get down on one knee…” he mutters, lowering himself down to do just that, pulling a little box from his pocket and presenting it to her. “Eva, my love, would you do that honour of marrying me?”

Silence echoes after the question is finished. Eva has a hand over her mouth and her eyes are glistening, one tear falls slowly, marking a wet track down her cheek. The moment stretches on for ages, it’s the longest Sparda thinks he’s ever had to wait for anything and he’s terrified she’s going to say no.

A choked sound permeates the air around them as Eva falls down into him, throwing her arms around him. “Y-yes. Yesyesyesyes of course!” Tears fall freely from her eyes, dampening Sparda’s shoulder. He catches her and holds her close, almost unbelieving in her answer.

Once she’s calmed down some, tears no longer flowing, he brings her hand up so he can place the ring on her finger. It’s a simple little thing, just a plain silver band with two gemstones, a ruby and a sapphire, set into it. It fits her finger perfectly and looks so lovely there. A symbol of their love. “I love you, my little dove. So very much.”

“I love you, too.”

\--

Their wedding is a quiet affair. Sparda has no one to bring, and in fact does his best to hide it from the demon realm and those that would like to destroy him. Eva has a few friends attend. They hire a priest to preside, get a few musicians to play for them. Eva makes her own dress and it’s absolutely stunning. When Sparda sees her walk down the aisle, he can feel tears form. She’s so heartbreakingly beautiful.

After their I dos, Sparda never lets her go.

\--

As a wedding gift, Sparda brings Eva home. Home to a new house. It’s massive, compared to her old house, yet still homey. There’s a lovely garden out front, an actual yard, several bedrooms, plenty of room and high ceilings. Watching her eyes light up as she sees that he’s already set up a room entirely for her crafts brings such joy to his heart.

He loves watching her find the bathroom, the antique bureau he bought for her with a massive mirror for her to do her hair and makeup at. But his very favourite part is when she thanks him by pulling him into their bed.

They save exploring the rest of the house for another time.

\--

Some months into their marriage, Sparda is reading in their bed one night as Eva curls against him, about to fall asleep. It’s a nightly ritual for them. Sparda enjoys having Eva’s weight resting against his chest as he reads whatever he has on hand.

But this night is different. This night, Eva speaks up, “What do you think about kids?”

The question comes out of nowhere and takes Sparda a moment to absorb. He sets his book aside and wraps his arms around her, pulling her close. “My darling, you know how dangerous that could be.”

One of her fingers traces patterns on his bare chest, “I know. But what if we didn’t have to worry about demons and Hell or anything like that. What do you think about kids?”

Sparda considers the question seriously this time, “I think I would very much enjoy having children with you.”

Eva grins and melts into Sparda, “I’d like that, too.”

And the subject is dropped.

But over the next several weeks Eva gets… distant. She spends more time alone in her craft room, or cooking alone in the kitchen, shooing Sparda away anytime he offers to help. Sparda finds he only gets to really see her each night as they go to bed, at which point she is so exhausted she simply falls asleep before he has a chance to really talk to her.

It isn’t until a few weeks later that he is finally able to corner her one morning in the kitchen as she is making breakfast. “Eva, I have hardly seen you lately, where have you been?”

She remains with her back turned to him and shrugs, “I’ve been busy.”

Sparda approaches and presses a hand to the small of her back, knowing there’s more to it and sensing that something is wrong.”Little dove, please tell me what is bothering you. I cannot bear to see you like this.”

Eva heaves a heavy sigh and turns the burner on the stove off. Now he knows it’s serious if Eva is going to stop cooking. She turns around to face him but before he can get a good look at her, she’s burying herself into his chest and her entire body shakes with a heartbreaking sob. He immediately wraps himself around her, even revealing his wings alone to wrap them around her as well. He hates seeing her cry, all he wants is to protect her from all harm.

Her sobbing doesn’t get better. If anything, it gets worse. It’s honestly terrifying to Sparda, not knowing what is wrong and having no idea how to help her feel better. After some time of feeling more than a little useless, he lifts her in his arms and carries her into the bedroom to lay with her in the bed. He pulls her close and runs his fingers through her hair and rubs her back, hoping to quiet her crying at least enough so she can tell him what’s wrong.

Eventually her sobs quiet and Sparda finds that she’s cried herself to sleep, exhausted from the emotional output. Sparda continues petting her softly as he remains wrapped around her, leaving soft kisses wherever he can reach.

When she awakens, Sparda peppers her face in gentle kisses and holds her to him carefully. “You fell asleep, my love.” He brushes hair from her face, “Now can you tell me what is troubling you?”

Her eyes flash with something like fear and then shame as she looks away from him. She takes several deep breaths before, “Sparda, I-

“I’m pregnant.”

**Author's Note:**

> So I guess I should explain, Eva was nervous about telling Sparda because she was afraid he would be angry to endangering them further and bringing in children that would be at an exceptional level of danger. He's not, by the way. He's fucking overjoyed. Worried about the future and what the demons could do if they found out, sure. But overjoyed.
> 
> ANYWAY I hope you enjoyed!  
> I have a [twitter.](http://www.twitter.com/playingchello)


End file.
